


The Fading of the Light

by ambiguously



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Extra Treat, Gen, The Moriquendi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-26 00:36:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12544880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Thranduil through the ages.





	The Fading of the Light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AwayLaughing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwayLaughing/gifts).



The Noldor called Thranduil and his people "Moriquendi" in their haughty tongue. Elf lords, they styled themselves, rich in lore from the vaunted Valar, and they took pity on their benighted kindred who stayed in the Great Lands. He knew them, yes, of long ago, smooth-tongued Maglor and his fierce-eyed brother with one hand. Most of their kin never passed this far east, keeping their petty wars over their father's foolish gemstones far over the Ered Luin to the west. He recalled the genteel sneers at his forest kingdom, when this forest stretched far across the land. "Like Doriath," they said, and in the words, spoke of their disdain for Thingol's kingdom and his people.

Dark Elves. Country cousins. Poor kin, who'd never seen the light of the Trees.

Thranduil had no use for noble fools, and when the brothers left his land, he gave orders not to allow them to return, nor any of their family. His people had their own problems. So what if the Dark Lord sat in his fortress over the mountains, holding stolen jewels? Morgoth had not bothered to notice these lands, and Thranduil did not care to notice him.

Ages passed. The words grew, and grew dark and light in the very long seasons that had nothing to do with the course of the Sun. Maglor and Maedhros's family had brought the Sun and Moon with them over the sea, but here the forest flourished thick and deep, recreating the blessed darkness, the cracks in the high leaves reminding them of the stars. Yavanna had given them the trees, and Elbereth the stars, and Thranduil gave them due thanks but no more than their due.

Men and wars came, and dwarves and deceit followed, and Thranduil kept his people apart save in time of need. The great smiths to the south forged rings of power, but no Great Ring would be given to the Forest King, not a Moriquendi. Again, the high houses brought down their own doom.

The world changed, and changed again.

"I'm going West," Legolas said, his eyes full of the sea. He'd taken a dwarf for his life's companion, utter madness but not so mad as thinking he could carry the mortal creature with him beyond the World.

"They will not welcome you," Thranduil warned his son. "You are not from their high birth, not of their kind. The Noldor consider you a poor relation at best, and they will not permit a dwarf to sully their doorstep."

The argument was more than that, and went on longer, and this was how he learned that all the Noldor were gone, killed long ago or sailed home, even the Queen to the south who'd at least given the Forest King his due respect the few times they had met. They were all gone.

"The World is changing, Father. Our people must go, or fade."

"Go," he said, which was as much of a blessing as he could offer. He relented only enough to pass the word to his people, those who had not traveled and heard the call of the sea. Stay or go, they must choose. "Legolas knows the way."

Autumn returned to the forest, tasting of frost and smelling of the first dropped leaves. His halls were empty that were once full of laughter and wine and merriment. His forest was shrinking, cut down at the edges by Men who built strong walls and burned great fires in their stone hearths. His child was across the water.

Thranduil ascended his oaken throne and sat. He was in this land before the Sun and Moon, before the mighty princes of the West, before Men, and here he would remain until the stars burned out.


End file.
